


After-School Intervention

by RKS



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, F/M, No Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 07:44:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10917411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RKS/pseuds/RKS
Summary: [ NO SPOILERS ]Maki and Kokichi do what they've been doing their whole life; denying, derailing, and ignoring anything that could ever make anyone care.It almost works.Almost.





	After-School Intervention

“How did you break into the arts and supplies closet?”  
  
It’s pretty easy to detect when Maki’s in the vicinity. The air will suddenly stuff up in terror, all words in the room will wither and die, and - most unpleasantly - Kokichi will begin to feel extremely hot. On some of the stranger incidents, he even sweated a little. When Kokichi first encountered this anomaly in the gymnasium, he was instantly was struck with worry that he, the great Kokichi Ouma, was coming down with something - in the middle of what could be the most important few weeks of his life. He dismissed the idea as fast as it came to mind. It’s not like a singular woman can carry a disease that she can take away at will whenever she left his eyesight - it’s more likely his body was having fun playing pranks on him. Kokichi _totally_ got it; his body was probably lashing out in revenge for all of the painful pranks DICE used to play on his body.

Still, it wasn’t fun. Deep down, in a place Kokichi never acknowledged (except during lonely nights), he hoped that the same thing happened to Maki when she was around him.

“Well, you see,” Kokichi began, giving his stick-figure horse a green mustache. “I have been trained in the arts of assassinations since my birth, and I have thus been trained in the art of lockpicking. Using the talents I picked up in the Red Room, I used a paper clip on me to-”

Maki clicked her tongue. “Shut up, Kokichi,” Maki’s voice was tinged with an emotion it didn’t usually harbor - but Kokichi was positive he was misinterpreting it. “And tell me how you actually broke in there. If you decide to be a whiny brat, you will be treated li-”  
  
“A-am I going to get killed by the great Maki Harukawa?!” Kokichi squealed, throwing his horse drawing to the side. He vaguely noticed that the wind took it captive and sent it sailing away, towards the free, cloudy skies. “I’ve always wanted to get killed by you! How would you do it?! Would you stab me with a kiddie pencil? Suffocate me with a plushie? Oh! I have an idea! How about you choke me with crayons?”  
  
Maki’s eyes narrowed. “If I wanted to kill you, I would shoot you.”  
  
“Phooey. Boring.” Kokichi huffed. “Nishishi... you’re so dull, Harumaki! I thought you would be more creative, since you’re a nursery school teacher, but I guess you’re as moronic as everyone else. It’s a shame, really. I would’ve enjoyed watching you try to kill me!”

It got strangely quiet after Kokichi let those words leave his mouth. Maki was unmoving, not looking at him, deep in… thought, maybe? Worry? He wasn't sure; she was surprisingly hard to read, compared to everyone else in this idiotic place. Maybe that’s why his body felt really weird and heated around her. ...yeah, that was definitely the explanation Kokichi preferred. And it's not like there was anyone that could tell him otherwise.

Maki tapped her shoe on the wooden floor, thrusting Kokichi back into the unwelcoming present. Her eyes felt like gunshot wounds upon his skin, and she clenched her teeth like she was biting upon a knife. “...Kokichi, do you actively _enjoy_ pushing everyone away from you?”

He blinked. “Huh? What do you mean?” Tears forcefully welled up in his eyes, prepared to streak down his face in a mockery of a child's tantrum. “A-are you saying that… I’m a bad person?! T-that I have such a bad personality that I can’t make any f-frie-”

Maki slammed her fist against the wall, managing to actually dent a little - whether it was because of her sheer strength or the wall’s sheer flimsiness, Kokichi didn’t know. “You know _damn well_ that’s not what i’m saying, you little prick. Any time someone tries to get you to open up, you lie and cheat and manipulate them until there’s nothing left in them but hatred for _you_. Is there a method to your madness, or do you just have the most insensitive personality on the planet?”

Kokichi’s crocodile tears evaporated as fast as they condensed. His eyes lost all of their cheerful glow, and - despite his tiny body - he looked almost intimidating. His tiny fist hit the wall. He didn’t make a dent. 

“Well, look who’s talking,” Kokichi said. “You're the girl who has publicly professed her hatred for her talent, hatred for others, and you're probably going to confess your hatred for yourself.” He sniggered. “Oooh, I get why you’re so interested in me! You see yourself in me, eh? Want a kindred spirit? Too bad! I just think everyone is so boring, and so easy to mess with. They just hate me because of how stupid I make them look.”  
  
“See myself in…?” Maki growled, almost offended. “If you think I could ever sympathize with a lying, skiving thief, you're more delusional than that magician. You're nothing to me, nothing to anyone. I was simply curious to see if you were aware of your inconsistencies. Most children aren’t aware, so it's my duty - as the Ultimate Caretaker - to find the troublemakers and,” She gave herself a rare smile. "... _forcefully_ fix them."  
  
“Fix 'em? Good luck. My psychologist has tried for years and has STILL failed!” Kokichi giggled. “That's a good idea, though! You should totally see a shrink. You’re clearly not aware of your flawed personality, so maybe a therapist can help you actually become a decent human being." He traded smiles with Maki; a sharp smirk to contrast her revolted scowl. "You know, Maki, you're exactly what you accuse me of. You're someone who pushes people so far away from them, using so much force, that there’s nobody left that could see your flaws. I bet that’s why you hate me so much. I can see right through you, Maki!”  
  
Her left hand clenched in on itself, as if it was getting ready to grab a pencil and begin the Killing Game for good. “And I, you.” She sneered. “Do you not want everyone to know your oh-so-tragic past, Kokichi? Because if you spill your heart to the wrong person, they could find a weakness, and backstab you?” She rolled her eyes. “It’s such a shame that you pushed so many people away, the only person that you can hold a conversation with is the person that can read you like an open book.”  
  
Kokichi graced her with a tired smile. “Aww, you’re _sympathizing_ with me! Nobody’s done that before. You better feel real special, okay?” He stands up from his kiddie chair that was just a size too small from him, and held out his arms, palely welcoming Maki into an embrace. “C’mere, Mak-Mak. I accept it. You're Satan’s daughter, who he abandoned on Earth because even the fires of hell simply couldn't compare to your own anger, and i'm the spawn of Satan's wife's younger cousin, who could never, ever descend to your level, no matter how hard he tries." Kokichi shrugged. "What i'm trying to say is... let’s be bad people together.”

Maki shifted her body away from him, mouth pursed. “Unlike you, i’m not a bad person. Keep your… pity hug to yourself.”  
  
“You sure? You positive you haven’t killed a litter of kittens a few nights before we all arrived here?” Kokichi’s arms were still draped open, silently asking Maki to join him in a hug that would only be drenched in hatred and self-loathing. “I saw you, you know! I screamed at you in terror when you were still surrounded by their bodies, and you were so shocked at an unwelcome witness that you dropped your gun and suffocating teddy bear and ran off into the horizon…!”  
  
“I’m invulnerable to gaslighting attempts, so don’t try it.” Maki said. “No deal. No hugs.”  
  
Kokichi shrugged. “Alright, hugs are off the table. Good to know!”

The mere second he was done saying those words, Kokichi launched himself towards Maki, with speed comparable to his infamous mood swings. Once he was within her 'personal space bubble' (as Kiibo so eloquently put it), he forcefully pressed his lips to hers, a poor imitation of a kiss. He made an effort to not touch her with his arms; after all, hugs were completely off the table. Maki didn’t move a muscle throughout his entire assault, even if her face lightened up in clear shock. Kokichi would think that he was feeling elatement at her lack of violence if he was kissing anyone that _wasn’t_ Maki, Destroyer of Hearts.

The kiss held on for two more extraordinarily sloppy seconds. It was clear that neither Kokichi nor Maki had any idea what they were doing. Kokichi was going all out, pushing right into her (and tripping over his own feet while he's at it), while Maki was completely focused on keeping her nose from making any painful contact. They snapped away from the kiss quickly, both immediately jumping at the chance to wipe their lips of the other’s saliva using their sleeves. For a minute or two, nobody said anything. Once the evidence was covered up, the duo made a point to not even spare the other a glance. Maki seemed surprisingly subdued at the involuntary action, while Kokichi was oddly introspective.

"I know you have the reflexes to dodge that,” Kokichi muttered. “Why didn’t you?”  
  
Maki stared at him in what he wanted to believe was disgust. “I wanted to see how bad of a kisser you were. You were _awful_ .”  
  
“I’ll file it under future interrogation techniques, then…” Kokichi muttered under his breath, swiveling towards the exit. He nonchalantly threw a wave over his back towards the unlucky lady, almost as if he was trying to ignore everything that happened. “See you around, Harumaki. Don’t be a stranger! Or, well, be one. It’s not like you know how to be anything else.”

Maki’s brown eyes glazed into a hard, red tone; a tone so weighted it caused Kokichi to be rooted in place out of some kind of subhuman survival instinct. He couldn't even see her glare. But even if he couldn’t see it... god, could he feel it burn into his very soul. If she had a nicer personality - a personality without the hate, the loneliness, the bitterness, the cold, everything that didn't remind him of himself, he would have genuinely asked her to teach him how to do it.  
  
“After all of this is done - when the killing game has ended, and everyone is set free-” Her eyes loosed their hold on him. “-you will have nobody. Nobody that cares about you, nobody to love you. You will be all alone in the world.”  
  
Kokichi gave her a smile that was as much of a lie as both of them were. “So will you.”

 

*****

 

“Hey, Kokichi~!”

Kokichi's eyes fluttered in annoyance at the voice at the door, that was accompanied by several loud knocks - well, "knocks" in the loosest term. It was more like someone was trying to break down the door. Kokichi reattached his marker to his shoddily organized whiteboard and shuffled towards the door in his half-comatose state.

Waiting behind the door was a girl with white hair and a face that Kokichi never bothered to remember, holding a crumbled piece of paper. There was a crude drawing of a horse scribbled on it, surrounded by nine other cheerful animals - from cats, to lizards, to eagles. The horse had a green mustache, and the other animals all proudly showed off their checkered capes messily drawn on with permanent marker.

“I saw this fly out of the nursery room, and you came out of it soon after... does it belong to you~?” The girl asked. She held it out. “It’s actually pretty good for someone that doesn’t do art, you know~! I’m sure with a little prac-”  
  
“It doesn’t belong to me.” Kokichi muttered, and shut the door on her.

**Author's Note:**

> Sleep-deprivation fic, ahoy. Tell me your thoughts, positive and negative!
> 
> Edited so it's perfectly 2k words, because 1,999 made me unreasonably uncomfortable.


End file.
